


Escapism

by dead_berry



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Found Family, Hints of abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dead_berry/pseuds/dead_berry
Summary: Wilbur escapes %#@%%^ with little memory of basically anything, falls asleep in the forest to be taken in by Phil where he accidentally reveals he's a hybrid. Good news- so is everyone else in the house.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 97





	1. Nighttime Melody

The long grass brushed his feet as he fell down, his guitar hitting his back. He’s done it; he’s free. It’s been a long road to get here. He stared into the inky black sky above him- the stars were so wondrous tonight. When was the last time he’s seen the stars? It must’ve been years ago, or maybe it was just a couple of months. Hell, maybe days. He couldn’t remember. Hugging his messenger bag tighter, he checked to make sure he had everything- cash, food, water, a couple of outfits, flint and steel, and a sad excuse of a wooden sword. He stood back up and stumbled into a forest nearby, finding a small clearing encircled by trees where he could rest for a while. He placed the old bag and guitar by a tree, breathing in the night’s cold. His breath warmed the air in front of him as he found a couple of sticks to light with the flint and steel, and he settled for the moment. The smoke danced into the sky as he laid down on the damp earth, letting the cold seep into his bones. The moon gleamed in the sky, providing enough light to see in the inky dark. He pulled his guitar into his lap and began to stum, not sure what to play at first. The song settled in his mind before he was even aware, and he sang his heart out to the night.

_The roads are my home as horizon's my target_

_If I keep on moving, never lose sight of it_

_Treating my memory of you like a fire, let it Burn out, don't fight it, and try to move on_

_I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready_

_And I'll put down my roots when I'm dead_

This song let him remember, even for a moment, who he was. Who he should be. _Where_ he should be. Even though he doesn’t remember how he knows this song. A creature rusted in the bushes, curious of the siren’s song. Orange light from the fire flickered against the trees as he continued his song.

_The distance is futile_

_Come on, don't be hasty_

_You'll get that feeling deep inside your bones_

_I'll be gone then when you must be alone_

The last notes twinkled away with the stars, fading away as leaves fell to the ground. What month was it? It must be in the fall months for sure, and he assumed it was earlier in the season, as the night was a mild temperature. He moved his guitar to the side with much care and searched through his bag for a snack. He checked his supplies already, but it doesn’t hurt to see what he should look for tomorrow. After shuffling through his things until he found a granola bar, he got up and searched for a place to rest for the night. his bag slung over his shoulder and guitar across his back, he wandered through the night, ignoring his fatigue and avoiding the deadly creatures who claimed this time.


	2. Unexpected Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur wakes up in a cabin where he is treated by a Philza.

After hours (maybe?) of walking, he stumbled into a clearing with torches scattered around. The light seemed to keep the creatures he’s noticed following him at bay, so he laid down by the flower bed the torches encircled. He was exhausted to his core and just wanted to rest for the night, placing his stuff to the side and pulling out a jacket to use as a pillow. He was out in a matter of moments.

When he awoke, he was in a house. At least, he assumed it was a house because it was nothing like the place they used to live in. The room was lit up by the lanterns hanging from chains (chains? Chains aren’t safe.) on the ceiling, along with a fireplace embedded into the wall the couch was facing. The couch itself was a forest green, complimented by a rug and two armchairs of the same color. There was a worn dark coffee table resting on the rug, a bit closer to the couch than the fireplace. The building itself was wooden, besides the brick fireplace, with logs for the walls and planks for the floors. The walls were largely bare, with the exception of a few paintings of people. He tried to pull himself up from the couch, but couldn’t find the strength. So he stared at the ceiling under the ridiculously soft blanket as his eyelids drifted shut once more.

“Hey mate, are ya doing okay?” He shot up immediately, eyes wide, staring at the man who woke him up.  
“Woah woah woah, I didn’t mean to scare ya there. It’s just that I found you knocked out by the flower garden and you didn’t seem to be in the best shape, and-”  
“Where is my stuff? My guitar?” His voice came out with more shake than intended.  
“Ah. I put it over here, I can go it for ya if you want,” the man offered. He replied with a quick nod, and the man disappeared around the corner. He cleared his throat while looking around the area, noticing the decent-sized kitchen across the room with black-and-white tiling. The front door had a couple of pairs of boots and shoes next to it, along with a table covered in clutter. He didn’t notice before, but his left arm was wrapped in bandages, along with his legs, one wrapped from ankle to knee and the other just around his knee. He didn’t remember getting injured, but that’s a mystery for another time. The man came back around the corner with his worn bag and old guitar, along with a couple of other items.  
“I don’t know who you are, or where you plan on going, but I do know it never hurts to have some help. So,” the man placed the items down on the coffee table, “I gave you some extra food and potions, which are in the second bag, along with some warmer clothes since winter is coming soon.” He tossed a beanie to him.  
“... why?” He sat staring at the beanie in his lap. He didn’t know what would come of escape, but he at least knew not to expect anyone to help him. But here he was, a man giving a complete stranger enough supplies to actually make it.  
“Well, ideally, I could convince you to stay here until you were healed, but based on your reactions, I figured that was a no-go. The second best option would be to give you enough for you to hopefully make it to where ever you plan on going.” The man sat down on one of the armchairs.  
Stay there? Was he ready to trust shelter again? He was a target, he couldn’t just trust people who took them in. He stared at his hands as the man stood and walked off. He pulled on the beanie as the land outside the windows grew dim. He snapped out of his thoughts and grabbed his guitar from the coffee table, strumming a familiar tune. Trying to remember where he was headed, he began to sing. And he wasn’t aware, but the man listened from around the corner. He also was unaware of the other resident of the house, listening from two rooms over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still am not sure how this works but I'm figuring it out.
> 
> Also school is a thing so don't expect much during the week
> 
> and the confusion is intentional
> 
> i suddenly got very insecure about my writing whyyy


	3. Comforts in Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh,” He gaze ran across the room before stopping in the fireplace, soot covering the brick walls. “My name is Soot.”

The next morning, he still hasn’t moved from the couch. The man with the odd hat came by once he saw he was awake, bringing him a piece of toast with strawberry jam generously spread across the top along with a glass of milk. He moved his stuff so it was still in reach but out of the way, and placed the breakfast on the table. Then took his seat on the armchair once more, exhaling as he leaned against the back.

“Well, mate, since you’re still here, I should introduce myself. The name’s Phil. What’s yours?” Phil looked at him expectantly, waiting for a response. 

Funny thing is, he didn’t know his name. He didn’t remember it. Maybe he never even learned it. That’s another problem for another time.

“Uh,” His gaze ran across the room before stopping in the fireplace, soot covering the brick walls. “My name is Soot.” Soot could tell Phil didn’t believe him, but he didn’t question Soot further, so it was fine by him.

“Ok, Soot, do you know how old you are?” Phil leaned back into his chair, slight concern showing on his face.

“I believe I’m… 14. At least somewhere around there.”

“Okay. Where did you come from?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Where are ya headed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you need a place to stay?”

Soot didn’t respond to that one. Phil leaned back on his chair with a thoughtful exhale before getting up and going around the corner Soot assumed led to a hallway. He heard a door shut and some muffled words, and he grabbed the toast from the coffee table and took a bite. His eyes lit up from the taste- he was certain it was one of the most delicious things he’s ever eaten. He finished off the toast in under a minute, grabbing the milk to wash it down. The drink had an odd pinkish hue to it, and he took a sip. It rivaled the taste of the toast, with the same sweetness the jam had. He chugged it. He set the empty glass down on the plate, almost setting them down on the table before deciding to bring them to the kitchen. He walked over, ignoring the people standing in the hallway, and set it down on the counter. 

It was a lovely little kitchen; there was a wood stove on the left against the wall, and cupboards and counters supplied storage and decor. It didn't seem like enough, though, since any and all counter space was covered in clutter. Straight ahead there was a small alcove to the side which held a bookcase and a small desk with papers (paperwork? What data were they collecting?). On the right was a small table with assorted seats, one matching the theme of the house and well-worn while the other looked brand new. As he was looking around the area, Phil and the other person walked around the corner.

“Hello, Soot, I would like you to meet my… son, Technoblade.” Phil stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, the boy hiding in his long coat-thing. Soot was suddenly very aware of his dirty, torn, formerly yellow sweater and his tarnished trousers. The kitchen was silent as Techno stepped out from behind Phil, playing with his pink braid.

Soot’s jaw dropped.

Technoblade was a hybrid.

And Soot had never felt more relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo im trying to get better at storytelling without giving away the plot right away so imma do better summaries now
> 
> also thanks for the kudos n such! i really did not expect anyone to see this


	4. Broken Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Glad you boys are getting along. Now, Soot, would you like to see the room you can stay in?”

Technoblade was a piglin hybrid, with floppy ears and tusks sticking out from his bottom lip, and piglin legs and black hooves for feet.

He quickly collected himself and stuck out his hand.

“Hi. My name is Soot.”

Technoblade looked back up with confusion in his eyes, before tentatively reaching his hand out to grab Soot’s.

“I- call me Techno,” Soot shook his hand before letting go. Techno looked back over at Phil whose face was covered in relief. He let out a sigh before placing a hand on Soot’s back.

“Glad you boys are getting along. Now, Soot, would you like to see the room you can stay in?”

\------

_ “Ok kid, c’mon. I gotta show ya your new room.” _

_ Wilbur could hardly contain his excitement. A new room! He followed the man down the hall that had many doors along the walls. They got to a door with only 2 locks on it and the man swung the door open before shoving Wilbur inside. Wilbur didn’t have time to react, the door was locked already.  _

_ He was caught. _

_ Again. _

\------

Soot froze.

An alarm bell was going off in his head, but he couldn’t quite place why. 

“Soot? Something wrong?” Phil took a step towards him, worry written on his face. Soot stumbled back, looking around frantically. 

_ This place is safe, right? _

_ I don’t know anyone here. I just met them. _

_ Have Phil go in the room first. _

_ Wait, is this about a room? _

Soot took a shaky breath, straightening up and trying to steady himself.

“It-it's fine. Just- can you go in the room first?” Soot watched Phil for hesitance. But all he found was confusion.

“Uh- sure mate, whatever helps you feel comfortable.”

The group walked down a short hallway, with 5 doors in all. And none of them had locks. Phil stopped at the second door on the right, which was between two other doors. He turned the brass knob, walking into the decent-sized room. He motioned for Soot to follow him, which he did after a moment of silent panic.

The room was lovely in Soot’s opinion, even though Phil apologized for the dust that caused a musty smell. There was a large window with a window seat against the back wall, and a bed laid on the other side of the door, with a yellow comforter and white sheets. The floor was wooden, and the walls were painted a light grey. There was a wardrobe against the other wall, and Soot started to look for a nice place to put his guitar. 

“This room hasn’t been used in a while. It’s a guest room, and I think the last time we used it was a few months back.” Phil walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a plain white t-shirt and loose blue pants. “You can change into these for pajamas tonight, even though they are a bit big on you. Definitely not too short though.” Phil chuckled. Soot gladly took the clothes, happy to be able to change out of his tattered clothing. 

Soot watched as Phil left the room, mumbling something about needing to go clothes shopping. He quickly changed into pajamas, every now and then checking to make sure the door is unlocked. (Even though he wasn’t 100% sure why.) He sat his guitar down across the window seat, and looked through his messenger bag. He took out the tiny water bottle with clear-ish water and the cheap granola bars, laying them on the floor next to him. He took out his other tattered clothing and put them in the wardrobe, placing the messenger bag with the other contents still inside on the floor of the wardrobe. He didn’t notice until he stepped on it, but he had left his new beanie on the ground. He picked it up and climbed into bed.

It was the safest sleep he’s had in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot to update this i wrote this chapter like a week ago haha sorry

**Author's Note:**

> How painfully obvious is it that this is my first fic? I have no clue how this platform works jahdjfhdjf


End file.
